I have to be honest - I think more people should self-publish their games. Not because you have the skills, or the time, or because it's profitable. None of that. But, because it's thrilling, satisfying, a constant learning experience, and hard.
As I watch my little company enter its final death heaves, I want to write some advice for folks who want to pursue this themselves. "But Grant," you ask. "Why should we listen to a failure?" Well, I can save you some time, because I learned many lessons.
Yesterday, February 19, 2017, a new series of threads regarding Kickstarter and really, the industry as a whole, popped up on Twitter. You have people on all sides of the aisle chiming in with this or that.
This is the second entry in the 54 Card Guild, a loosely guided course for designers new and old interested in crafting a game consisting of at most 54 cards and nothing else. If you'd like to read the first post, check here.
I find myself greatly drawn to the notion of humorous games lately. More specifically, designing games that are legitimately funny for those playing them. I don't mean games like Apples to Apples, or Bad Medicine, or Cards Against Humanity that are intended to be funny party games.
Yesterday I posted about Stretch Goals and why we won't be using them for Hocus. The result was somewhat predictable and somewhat surprising.
Jamey Stegmaier, the guy who is publishing a book on Kickstarter, thinks we're making the wrong decision.
The images in this post were taken by me using my copy of Merchants and Marauders and the Sails of Glory expansion.
Last night we played Merchants and Marauders for the fourth time. We tossed in the new Sails of Glory expansion, or at least about half of the modules from this.
Tension is one of, if not the, most important ingredients in a great design.
Recently I played a new game for the first time. I was very excited to play this game based on the initial read of the rules.
Mel Brooks' 'The Producers'
I started in the video game industry in 2005 just a month after I graduated college, left Oklahoma, and arrived in San Francisco with a Civic packed with stuff. I've worked at Maxis for all but one of those years, almost entirely as a producer, though sometimes as a designer, and occasionally a producer moonlighting as a designer.